Sun and Moon
by accidentalartistry
Summary: He could not be the sun. He could be the moon instead. At least the moon kept its promises.


Her first thought, upon seeing Leo Valdez, is that there is no way she could ever love him.

It was annoying enough that he'd crashed right into her table, but that could be forgiven if he had been at least, well, _respectable_. But he was a mess from the moment she laid eyes on him: his hair was scruffy and all over the place. He was short and scrawny, and most importantly, _he ruined her dang table._

Worst of all, is that he didn't even _care_ about that. He was so unlike the other heroes who had come to her island—so unwilling to sympathize. There was no charm in this boy. Nothing about him could ever make her care for him.

She gritted her teeth. It was bad enough that she was cursed to spend eternity on this island. It was worse still that she had to fall in love with any hero who washed ashore.

Yet the worst came in the fact that she would be stuck with Leo Valdez, because she knew, in whatever soul she might have had left, that loving someone like him was far from an inevitability. It was impossibility. She supposed, then, that the gods were having their last laugh at her, drinking wine and ruining her already dismal eternity.

I

"Sunshine" was the worst thing he could have called her.

The sun was still a beautiful thing to her. It gave hope—unlike the moon, which was another reminder of one more miserable day having passed. The sun was different. It woke her up and gave her purpose to keep waiting. It reminded her of the heroes that had visited her in the past: never delivering on their promises, but she still couldn't help loving them. The sun was precious to her, and not to be tainted.

She didn't like it being associated with sarcasm and lies, which were what Leo reminded her of.

"You hate it when I call you that," he said one night as he sat outside, working on his boat project. Calypso had joined him again, still aching for company.

"Thanks for noticing," she said.

"Whoa, I was just saying." He held his hands up. "If it bothers you that much, I won't do it again. I can start calling you raincloud, or hail, if you prefer."

She rolled her eyes. "I feel honoured."

"I try, raincloud."

He never called her sunshine again. She wondered idly, as she was preparing dinner the next night, if he had perhaps been more like the sun than she had believed. But she firmly eschewed the thought. The sun, after all, was yearning for her to fall in love with it each morning. She did so, quickly and easily. So Leo Valdez could not be the sun.

He could be the moon instead. At least the moon kept its promises.

I

It didn't occur to her until after why she'd let him live.

She was not receptive to the idea that continued to haunt her: perhaps the reason she had spared his life was because she didn't mind living with him after all.

He was still _annoying_, but there was a familiarity to his annoyingness that made her reluctant to let go of it.

He approached her awkwardly, as she stood in the kitchen, furiously scrubbing pots and pans. His hands were in his pockets, and he didn't quite meet her eye. She suspected it had taken a lot of courage for him to come here.

_Perhaps a hero after all. _

She ignored that thought.

"Thank you," he said finally. "I didn't really say it before, but...yeah. I'm glad you decided not to kill me. That kind of would've sucked." He smiled at her, not daring to make any physical contact. She felt sorry for him. She didn't deserve this kind of thank you—not really.

"You have a battle to fight," she said, trying to make her voice sound indifferent. She stares down at her dishes.

"Well, thanks anyway. I'd rather not die here."

"Because your last moments would be around me?" she said. He looked up at her, surprised.

"No, I just—" He broke off suddenly. "Oh. Ha ha. Teasing me. Maybe you do have a sense of humour."

"Only around people I don't like," she said, but a smile crept up at the corner of her lips.

He rolled his eyes, and she thought that was that, when he came closer and—

Tugged on her braid.

She glared at him immediately, and he inched away from here. He seemed uncertain if she was going to drown him in dishwater or throw another pot at him.

"Get out of here," she said instead. She dumped another pot into the sink as he left her behind.

Those dishes were going to know her fury tonight.

I

"If we started that garage, would you repair my table?"

It was nearly dark, and they had been working all day. She had decided that if he wasn't going to disappear, she might as well keep herself from being lonely. And she was certain she wanted him off of her island. She had never been more certain of anything, in fact.

Which is why she had to remind herself of that every minute while she watched him work. No harm in refreshing her memory.

There was something graceful about this unstable boy when he was working on some kind of machinery. It was as if every useless part of him that he didn't know what to do with suddenly whirred to life, and suddenly no one could stop the fire inside of him.

He didn't even look up from his work. To her embarrassment, she had to repeat herself. He seemed confused at first. Then he remembered.

"Oh, the table. It was ugly anyway. I wouldn't bother to fix it if I were you."

She scowled, but she sensed that he was teasing her again. "That was an antique. I've had it for nearly two thousand years."

"So they gods couldn't free you, but they had the time to drop off tables every now and then?" He shook his head. "Dude. I _really_ don't understand those guys."

"Well, you wouldn't," Calypso said. "You're still mortal, after all."

A flash of annoyance crossed his face. Calypso regretted her words for a moment, but he didn't seem to stay mad for long.

That was one thing she could admit she liked about him: he forgave. She had never been one to do so. Rather, she preferred to let her grudges linger and fester until they eat away at her. She hadn't forgiven the heroes who had left her; not completely.

She thought, though, that maybe he could be the one she could learn to forgive. Maybe. If he ever get around to fixing her table.

"I'd fix your table," he said. She was startled. The idea that Leo Valdez could read minds frightened her. It made her want to draw back and keep him from learning what was going on inside her brain. How odd.

I

Of _course_ he had a girlfriend.

They all did. They washed up on Ogygia, handsome and charming her into loving them. And then she found out that they had someone waiting for them back home, ensuring that they could never stay with her longer than it took for her to love them.

She had thought it wouldn't make a difference to her, whether he had somebody waiting for him. It hadn't occurred to her that the reason she thought it wouldn't matter was because she had never believed it to be true. Surely no one had fallen for this small, rather annoying boy.

Yet it appeared that a beautiful girl named Reyna had, indeed, fallen for him. And that hurt her in a way she hadn't expected.

She might have, against all her willpower, begun to like him. Unfortunately, another girl had already liked him, long before Leo had ever arrived before Calypso.

And then it came. A denial.

No. Not a denial. A truth.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Leo sputtered. If Calypso's heart flipped at his words, well, that was for only her to know.

I

She wondered, on the last night before the end, whether they could stay like this forever.

She thought that she could stay in this constant state of maybe: _maybe_ she cared for him._ Maybe_ he would stay. _Maybe_ she wouldn't mind if he did.

If she could keep her mind focused on maybe, then she might be able to keep him.

He excused himself, and she realized she may have finally driven him away with her unkindness. She felt her cheeks grow warm. That wasn't what she wanted now. She was pretty sure.

Fortunately for her, he returned. He had something behind his back. He told her to close her eyes. She did so reluctantly. (She liked looking at him more than she'd once thought.)

Something plunked down in front of her, and she opened her eyes. In front of her was her stupid antique table, fixed and looking almost brand new.

She frowned, and leaned down to inspect it. There was something different about it...almost as if the design had been tampered with.

"You changed the wood," she realized.

He shrugged, unapologetic. "Yeah, well. It was an ugly table. I figure it's the base of something that makes it ugly. I think the gods picked such an ugly wood to make things worse for you. 'Stuck on a deserted island? I know, I'll give her a hideous table to make her even more miserable!'" He did a good imitation of Apollo. She couldn't help but smile a little.

"You did that without my permission? Do you ever learn?"

"Hey, better a changed table than one that doesn't actually, you know, _exist_."

"I suppose."

"You're agreeing with me? Should we get out a camera? This needs to go down in my scrapbook."

She looked at him, confused. "What's a camera?"

"Oh," he said, the joking tone now lost from his voice. It was as if he forgot how disconnected Calypso was from the world. Perhaps he saw his future in her.

Secretly, she hoped he did.

I

He wanted to come back. But he couldn't. No hero could ever find Ogygia twice. No hero was meant to find her twice. She was a one-time wonder to be forgotten about. She was not supposed to be rescued.

Well, she had heard that she was supposed to be rescued. Percy Jackson had made the gods promise this, but both he and they had forgotten about her. She was nothing but a chapter in their lives.

Except to Leo, she was a fully fledged story. For reasons she couldn't fathom, he seemed determined to grant her a happy ending.

She always thought writers were foolish. She knew now that mechanics were even more so.

He had to leave, and she didn't want him to.

She hadn't owned up to it until now, because doing so would crush her. It meant that her only hope for companionship would soon be gone, leaving her dry and empty once more. The sun—in the form of a fiery, blazing boy—had given her hope. The moon was about to disappoint her again.

She loved him.

Everything about him was just as it had been before, but she always found that love changes the person receiving it more than it changes the one giving it. He seemed to glow in a new light. He was beautiful to look at now. She wanted to hug him, and tell the most annoying person she had ever met that he had to stay with her.

The raft appeared moments later. She suppressed a bitter laugh. Her punishment was cruel. Crueller now that she knew Leo had no one waiting for him. He did have a life, though, and a war to fight.

He drew his eyebrows together quizzically as he watched the raft. "It only appears for the guys you like—"

He knew. Calypso steeled herself inside and prepared herself for the rejection that was about to come.

"I don't want any empty promises."

"How about a full promise? Because I'm definitely—"

She grabbed his face and kissed him. His lips were warm and his body seemed to be in shock, but it quickly whirred to life and responded her. This was what she had been waiting for: a hero to respond, and to believe that her kisses were the only ones he would ever want.

When she released him and looked at him fully, she believed it was true.

She pushed him away. "That didn't happen."

"Okay."

"Get out of here."

"Okay."

With one last look, Leo climbed into his raft. He started to ride off, staring hard into the distance as if it might have some kind of answer waiting for him.

She sat down in the sand she had known for three millennia and stared at the ground. The sight of him leaving her was too much. She was going to cry if she watched him slowly drift out of her line of vision.

Maybe Leo was the sun after all, full of hope and promises. Maybe he would keep shining, and he would do as he'd said. For once, the sun might keep its promises.

And she, Calypso, could be the moon.

I

**Calypso and Leo forever, am I right? **


End file.
